Save Yourself
by dancingllama
Summary: Being the Goddess of Magic was tough enough when you're globally misperceived, but being the banished Goddess of Magic returning to Olympus was tougher.


**Prologue**

* * *

The sofa was ablaze, and it smoldered in every literal sense of the word. I watched, no - I _could only_ watch as the fire simmered until the blaze was gone, and what remained of the sofa was charred pieces, floating everywhere before falling slowly to the floor. It got into my hair and my uselessly outstretched hand and I think it got on my face, but all I could do was stand there.

I know a summons when I saw one. I wasn't an idiot. What I couldn't understand was _why_. Had I not left? Had I not defied the greatest god's commands and insisted I leave? Was I not, when said defiance had occurred, banished, forbidden to ever return?

Why was I being summoned back now?

"You gonna move anytime soon?" A voice asked from behind me.

I would have flinched if I was capable of it. Instead, I stood there, even more firmly rooted to the ground, digesting that I had indeed heard right.

He sighed and I heard him move around me to face me. He hadn't changed, although why that surprised me I didn't know. I guess I had gotten used to the mortal world.

As if nothing had ever happened, as if we were only friends meeting up for coffee, the God of War smiled at me. "Hey, Cate – or should I say, _Joanne Foster_."

Somehow, hearing my real name, which no one has ever used for a _long_ time unfroze me and I found my voice. "Hey, Ares."

"How you been?"

"Good. And you?"

"Same old." His smile was intact but his tone serious, letting me know that wasn't a joke. There was silence as he looked around, surveyed my apartment, before looking back, eyes running up and down me – not in a sexual way, but more of a scrutinizing way, the way an archeologist would examine some ancient artifact. Eventually the God of War sighed. "You know you're going to have to come with me."

"Why?" I finally moved, crossing my arms. "Why did they send the God of War to get me, anyway?"

"You have been summoned –"

"I know I've been summoned," I tried my best not to snap. "I've had lightning bolts sent after me for the past three days. A fountain burst and drenched me, only me out of everyone else in the shopping complex. You didn't have to set my couch on fire."

Ares looked unapologetic. "I wouldn't have had to if you had come back during the first summons."

My fists clenched involuntarily. "I was banished."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ares snapped. I had pissed him off. He glowered, which was something to say, seeing as how there was a faint red glow about his body. "You know perfectly well you wouldn't be summoned back if you were banished. Heck, you wouldn't be _alive_ if you were banished. Stop giving me immature excuses and suck it up. What are you, a weakling?"

I had certainly deserved that, but I couldn't help but feel angry – something Ares tended to evoke in everyone he met; he was the God of War, after all. "Ares," I warned. "Just because I had laid low doesn't mean I've forgotten who I am."

"Or maybe you're just ashamed."

I gritted my teeth. He was pushing it. "I'm not."

"Really? You're not? Okay, then." But I could tell Ares was far from being done with me, as he crossed his arms and mimicked my stance. "Walking out on us wasn't being a weakling? Disappearing, for _all this time,_ that's not weak? Ignoring an order, that isn't pathetic?"

I made no motion to answer.

"Because I think that's pretty damn pathetic," Ares spat, the red glow about him slightly stronger. "And when you think about it, it's kinda ironic! I mean, being weak is against everything you stand for, it's supposed to go against every nerve in you, weakness should not affect _you,_ but I guess some things go against the grain."

I enunciated every word carefully. "I am not weak."

Ares laughed like how one would laugh at a child dressed up in her mother's clothes and lipstick. "You walked out on us in the middle of a battle," he thundered, all traces of mocking laughter gone. He looked furious. "You _abandoned_ us when we needed all the help we could get. You _left_ because you couldn't take it. You are not only weak, you are selfish."

Although I deserved this and more, I couldn't help but glare, his words hurting me far more than any battle ever has. Which in my opinion was ridiculous. Goddesses didn't get hurt. But I did. I cared.

Maybe I _was_ weak.

"You thought of no one but yourself. You claim you care so much for this mortal world, and yet two hundred years ago you left it to fend for itself while you disappeared!" Ares bellowed, well beside himself. "Have you any idea how everything fell apart after you betrayed us?"

"_I did_ _not betray-_!"

"You are betraying your kind this very instant!" Ares's spear suddenly appeared in his hand. "You are weak, selfish, pathetic –"

"Enough!" I screamed, and all the windows in my apartment shattered. Ares had done nothing – it was me. It was all me. The powers that I hadn't used in years were awake now – I could feel the familiar vibrations, the energy coursing through my body. I felt it everywhere, vibrating from the tips of my fingers to the blood in my veins. I felt alive. After two hundred years, I was alive again.

Ares's spear didn't frighten me, like it frightened mortals or demigods alike. His glare and red glower weakened almost the bravest of them – and even at times, certain gods, but I was not afraid. I only felt heartened. I felt him – I felt Ares's courage, his bravery, his _magic_ - and that empowered me even more. Because I'm Hecate, Goddess of Magic.

Every god and goddess are what humanity has imagined them to be all this time - they are divine, they are immortal, they are power. But they are also magic. There is a magic that resides in every god or goddess, and that is what, ultimately, makes them who they are. And because Ares is made of that very magic, I can feel it. I embody the magic that resides in him, and that's what makes me stronger.

Ares's red glower suddenly disappeared, and he smirked at me. "And that," he pointed to my fingers, where I could see slight static between them, "is why they sent the God of War."

My anger abated, if only slightly, and I understood. Ares was here to provoke me, reawake my powers, my energy. Even the greatest of gods have to succumb to their power, and me of all gods – I was no exception. I felt the thrumming in my body, the eagerness to battle and use my powers – pretending to be a mortal was strenuous – and I couldn't help but wonder. I wanted to know why I was being summoned.

I sighed, stalling, and looked at Ares. "You still didn't have to set my couch on fire."

* * *

**Author's Note**

I love Greek Mythology, and fiction about it even more. I've always been intrigued when it came to Hecate, because we rarely see any fiction about her. Wherever she's mentioned, she's only mentioned very briefly and in the passing. And I think that Hecate's myth is interesting, as are her powers and all that she stands for. I'd like to mention that this story is in no way affiliated to any myths. This story is pure fiction, and while I've researched Hecate and her myths in order to form the basis of which to build this story on, the storyline and the plot is all fiction.

Any questions? Hit me up with a review. :)


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